el.angeleyes-第85部分

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hadow　cast　by　a　large　building　opposite。　It　was　too　small　for　a　man　to　get　through；　but　she　thought　that　she　might　be　able　to　make　it。
　She　took　the　kyotetsu…shoge；　walked　to　the　rear　of　the　roof。　Knotting　a　length　of　nylon　rope　she　carried　around　the　center　of　the　weapon's　chain；　she　wrapped　the　kyotetsu…shoge　around　a　metal　flue。　Paying　the　rope　out　slowly　until　she　tied　the　other　end　around　her　waist；　she　went　over　the　side　of　the　house。
　When　she　got　level　with　the　pebbled…glass　bathroom　window；　she　braced　herself　by　placing　her　feet　on　either　side　of　it。　It　was　partly　open；　but　this　was　of　no　help　to　her；　since　the　metal　frame　impinged　on　the　space　she　needed　to　crawl　through。
　She　spent　the　next　two　minutes　detaching　the　window　from　its　hinged　brackets。　Then　she　slid　it　carefully　into　the　bathroom；　followed　it　in。
　It　was　a　tight　fit；　but　she　made　it。　She　untied　herself　from　the　nylon　cord；　stood　absolutely　still　for　ten　minutes。　While　her　eyes　adjusted　to　the　gloom　inside；　she　accustomed　her　ears　to　listen　to　the　natural　sounds　of　the　house：　creaks；　doors　opening；　closing；　footfalls　in　the　hallway；　muffled　voices。　No　TV；　no　radio；　no　stereo；　no　VCR。　No　loud　sound；　no　doubt　in　deference　to　their　sick　house　guest。
　When　Koi　was　certain　that　she　had　catalogued　every　sound；　no　matter　how　minute；　and　that　she　would　pick　up　the　slightest　deviation；　she　opened　the　bathroom　door　a　crack。
　Again　she　was　still　for　ten　minutes；　allowing　the　scents　of　the　house　to　e　to　her　while　the　repetition　of　the　tiny　sounds　reassured　her　that　all　was　as　it　should　be。
　She　had　e　in　on　the　fourth　and　top　floor。　It　seemed　logical　to　her　for　Hitasura　to　put　Tori　Nunn　as　high　up　as　he　could。　Also；　that　he　would　put　her　in　a　room　as　near　to　a　bathroom　as　possible。
　Koi　stepped　out　into　a　hallway。　To　her　right　was　the　landing　of　the　open　iron　spiral　staircase　down　to　the　third　floor。　Beyond　were　two　rooms；　both　with　their　doors　open；　both　dark。　Koi　forgot　them。　To　her　left　was　only　one　room；　the　door　to　which　was　closed。　A　crack　of　dim　light　filtered　out　into　the　hallway　from　the　far　edge；　which　was　not　quite　fitted　into　the　frame。
　Still　Koi　did　not　move。　Her　peripheral　vision　had　picked　up　a　shadow　moving。　It　crept　up　the　open　stairwell；　illuminated　by　the　lamps　below。　Someone　was　ing　up　the　stairs。
　She　contracted　her　wa；　stilled　her　breathing　to　the　minimum。　She　watched　as　the　top　of　a　man's　head　came　into　view。　It　stopped；　and　she　could　hear　voices　talking　softly。　She　craned　her　neck　without　otherwise　moving；　saw　the　top　of　a　shorter　man's　head。　He　had　been　guarding　the　staircase；　but　because　of　his　lack　of　height；　she　had　not　been　able　to　see　him　from　where　she　stood。
　Koi　waited。　Eventually　the　conversation　ceased；　the　shadow　moved　down　the　spiral　staircase。　The　shorter　man　remained　at　his　post；　but　he　was　concentrated　on　someone　trying　to　e　up　the　stairs。　Koi　slipped　down　the　hallway　to　her　left；　out　of　his　field　of　vision。
　She　stood　by　the　lone　door　for　a　long　time。　She　could　hear　nothing　from　inside　the　room。　Her　fingers　on　the　door；　a　spider's　deft　touch。　She　pushed　it　inward。
　Koi　stepped　into　the　room。　It　was　a　bedroom；　furnished　in　Western　style：　mahogany　bed；　masculine　dressers；　a　dark　red　and　black　patterned　rug　covering　most　of　the　floor。　A　mirror　hung　on　the　wall；　along　with　several　modern　abstract　prints。　A　lamp　glowed　on　a　night　table　beside　the　bed。
　On　Koi's　face　now　spread　that　singular　expression：　ecstasy　and　despair。
　In　the　bed　was　the　sleeping　form　of　a　woman。　Koi　drank　her　in；　the　face　beautiful　even　if　her　skin　was　still　unhealthily　pale。　Her　breasts　rose　and　fell　evenly　from　beneath　the　covers。　Her　long　cinnamon…colored　hair　fanned　out　across　the　pillowcase。　Very　exotic；　very　American。
　Tori　Nunn。

ELEVEN
TOKYO

　Tori　Nunn；　lying　unconscious　in　the　big　bed　in　the　fourth…floor　bedroom　of　Hitasura's　safehouse　near　Hammacho　Station；　was　dreaming　of　one　moment　in　time；　when　she　was　the　Wild　Child。
　It　was　nine　years　ago；　the　year　after　she　had　stumbled　across　Hitasura；　who　had　pulled　her　out　of　hiding　after　she　and　her　brother　Greg　had　been　involved　in　the　death　of　the　young　Yakuza；　three　months　after　she　had　been　recruited　into　the　Mall　by　Bernard　Godwin。
　The　then…managing　director　of　the　Mail…and　Godwin's　right　hand　man…was　Tom　Royce。　Royce　was　a　lanky；　rawboned　man；　a　sunravaged　Texan　who　rolled　when　he　walked；　and　chewed　rather　than　smoked　small　black　cheroots。　It　was　easy　to　imagine　him　in　a　ten…gallon　hat；　lassoing　a　dogie。　Bernard　had　sent　him　to　Japan　to　brief　Tori　on　Mall　procedure　and　discipline。
　In　Tori's　opinion；　Royce　was　entirely　the　wrong　man　to　send　to　Japan。　After　the　first　interminable　week　with　him；　she　cabled　Bernard　this　conviction；　but　all　the　reply　she　received　was　a　terse　〃Carry　on。　You're　under　discipline。　Follow　orders。〃
　In　the　end；　however。　Tori　was　proved　correct。　Japan　got　to　Tom　Royce。
　Royce　fancied　himself　a　real　cowboy。　Wyatt　Earp。　When　Tori　found　him　in　the　alley　behind　her　apartment　shot　to　death　with　his　own　Colt　pistol；　she　was　hardly　surprised。　But　she　was　angry。　This　was　Tokyo；　her　city；　and　she　had　been　charged　with　Royce's　safety。　Besides；　the　murder　had　e　on　what　was　the　equivalent　of　her　back　porch。
　She　knelt　beside　Tom　Royce's　body；　pulled　the　barrel　of　the　Remington　out　of　his　throat。　What　a　way　to　die。　Yakuza；　Tori　was　willing　to　bet。　She　went　to　see　Hitasura。
　The　Yakuza　oyabun　was　not　forthing。　〃I　do　not　know　who　killed　this　American；〃　Hitasura　said　after　they　had　had　green　tea　and；　as　civilized　protocol　demanded；　had　spoken　of　many　other　unimportant　matters；　〃but　I　will　shed　no　tears　for　him。　And　neither　will　you；〃　he　added　shrewdly。
　''My　personal　feelings　for　Royce　are　unimportant；''　Tori　said。　〃I　was　responsible　for　him。　Whoever　killed　him　knew　that；　and　threw　him　up　into　my　face。〃
　〃The　American　was　without　manners；〃　Hitasura　said；　as　if　he　had　not　heard　her。　''He　was　loud；　aggressive；　he　made　passes　at　our　women　and　insulted　our　men。　I　would　think　that　the　suspects　in　his　murder　would　be　many。〃
　〃Only　one　person　killed　him；〃　Tori　said；　rising；　〃and　that　person　must　answer　for　the　insult。〃
　Hitasura　had　poured　more　tea。　〃This　time；　Tori…san；　I　would　think　it　better　if　you　let　the　matter　drop。〃
　〃It　is　a　question　of　honor；〃　Tori　said。　〃If　I　back　away；　then　I　am　worth　nothing。　To　my　employers；　to　myself。〃
　Hitasura　said　nothing；　and　she　left　him　pouring　more　tea　for　himself　and　for　a　guest　who　was　no　longer　there。
　Over　the　next　several　weeks　Tori　dived　deep　into　the　bowels　of　Tokyo。　She　wheedled；　cajoled；　threatened；　plied　her　contacts　with　drink。　Nobody　knew　a　thing　about　Tom　Royce's　murder。　Either　that　or　they　were　involved　in　a　conspiracy　of　silence。　It　could　happen。　For　all　of　Tori's　fame；　and　the　respect　she　was　given　by　the　Japanese；　she　was　still　gaijin；　an　outsider。　And　now；　trying　to　run　down　Tom　Royce's　murder；　she　came　to　the　realization　that　as　much　as　she　wanted…needed…Japan　to　be　her　home；　it　was　not。　She　was　born　Caucasian；　and　here　that　alone　counted　too　heavily　and　irrevocably　against　her。
　With　a　kind　of　relief　she　never　thought　she　would　feel；　she　flew　back　to　the　States；　spent　ten　days　being　debriefed　by　Bernard　himself　in　Mall　Central　in　Virginia；　then　headed　west　to　Los　Angeles　and　Diana's　Garden。
　Ellis　Nunn　didn't　say；　What　the　hell　are　you　doing　here？　He　didn't　say　anything；　he　was　on　a　business　trip　in　Europe。　Greg　was　off　on　some　top…secret　assignment　for　NASA。　That　left　Tori　to　fend　for　herself　with　her　mother。
　Within　a　week　that　familiar　stifling　feeling　had　returned；　and　Tori　packed　her　bags；　flew　directly　back　to　Tokyo。
　It　was　good　to　be　back。　The　city　seemed　scoured　clean；　bright　with　nervous　energy；　a　beating　heart　that　never　faltered。　It　didn't　matter　that　in　her　absence　so　many　buildings　had　been　torn　down；　others　built　in　their　stead；　that　she　hardly　recognized　certain　districts…that　was　part　of　Tokyo's　uniqueness；　and　she　felt　immediately　at　ease。
　She　threw　herself　back　into　her　work；　but　the　specter　of　Tom　Royce's　murder　continued　to　haunt　her。　Now　she　could　not　get　her　interview　with　Hitasura　out　of　her　mind；　What　if　it　was　one　of　his　lieutenants　who　had　murdered　Royce；　or　even　worse；　Hitasura　himself？
　Tori　asked　herself　what　she　would　do　if　the　worse　came　to　the　worst。　Would　she　try　to　bring　Hitasura　down；　or　would　she　back　away；　as　he　had　first　suggested？
　This　was　the　essential　question　that　gnawed　at　her　the　night　she　was　at　The　Neon　Starfish。　It　was　a　club　just　this　side　of　respectability；　on　the　outskirts　of　the　Ginza；　starlit　with　colored　lights；　with　a　transparent　floor　beneath　which　lusciously　colored　tropical　fish　swam　in　lazy　circles。
　There　were　two　Japanese　businessmen；　drunk　on　sake；　who　she　had　been　aware　of　for　some　time。　They　looked　as　similar　as　bookends；　though　one　was　shorter　than　the　other。　They　had　already　taken　off　their　suit　jackets；　hung　them　up　on　seat　backs。　They　wanted　women；　but　were　apparently　too　drunk　to　make　it　down　the　block　to　the　local　akachochin；　where　they　could　have　their　pick　of　the　litter　in　return　for　a　sum　of　money　equal　to　a　month's　paycheck。
　Instead　they　had　begun　a　series　of　obnoxiously　maudlin　reports　on　the　pathetic　state　of　their　home　lives。　Tori　had　just　about　had　it　with　stories　of　their　suckling　at　their　wives　teats　as　they　had　done　with　their　mothers；　when；　as　drunks　are　often　wont　to　do；　without　warning　they　veered　off　on　another　topic　entirely。
　Now　they　were　intent　on　impressing　one　another　with　tales　from　the　office　where；　latter…day　samurai　as　they　apparently　considered　themselves；　they　were　rife　with　legends　of　their　boardroom　prowess。
　This　also　proved　to　be　boring；　and　Tori　was　considering　changing　tables　to　escape　the　white　noise；　when　the　shorter　man　said　to　his　pal；　〃That's　nothing。　My　boss　killed　a　man。　Yes；　yes；　of　course；　it's　true。　I　swear　it！　We　got　drunk　together　last　week；　and　he　told　me　so　himself。　'I　killed　an　American；'　he　said。　A　drastic　resolution　to　a　problem；　I　said；　but　you　know　my　boss；　very　old…fashioned；　es　from　the　Murashitos…his　ancestors　it　is　said　were　samurai　at　the　court　of　the　first　Shogun；　Ieyasu　Tokugawa。　But　now　he　tells　me　that　this　American　raped　his　daughter；　an